Alphabet Drabbles
by captainholmes
Summary: As the name suggests, this is a collection of A-Z drabbles. Multiple pairings, rated T.
1. A is for Anomalies

_**A/N: My first set of alphabet Drabbles! These Drabbles will be between 100-500 words. Bless and enjoy! Multiple pairings. This is Finch/Ingram. I've seen this pairing so many times and it seems so interesting. **_

**A is for Anomalies**_**  
**_

****Nathan looked over his partner's plans, a small frown set on his face, eyebrows furrowed, lost in thought. In the dim light of their shared office, so too did Harold's 'bright idea' seem to dim. He had been so sure about it, so sure it would work, and yet here was his partner, his only friend, doubting what he had made. He could tell from the way his eyes shifted quickly across the page. Harold felt a little dumbfounded. He had put everything into this, spent countless hours with his glasses pushed down his nose, pouring over plans and designs. This was his big break. Their big break.

His sweating hands fiddled with each other as Nathan turned around, an indecisive look in his eyes, and he offered his long time friend a small smile. "It's...good." Good was better than bad, but not as good as perfect. Harold blew out a small sigh of relief. "It has some...problems."

"Which can be fixed," he reminded hastily, taking a step towards the older man. "Fixed readily and at your command. I just need your support on this one, Nathan. It could be amazing." The eager look on Harold's face made him laugh. Of course he put his heart and soul in to the project. It was cute how he always did everything like that. A small smile played on his lips, and he didn't bother to hide it.

"My dear friend, everything has anomalies," he said quietly, their eyes meeting for a brief second longer than necessary, but they still held each other's gaze. "Other people will find problems with it, doubt it, say it isn't right. But it's the result in the end that matters, right?" Harold nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wasn't sure where Nathan was going with this. He took a step closer to him. The temperature in the room rose dramatically.

"But these anomalies you speak of...they can...they can be fixed?" he asked hesitantly. Why was he sweating so much? Did someone turn the air conditioning off? Somehow it related to the way his friend was staring at him intently. He couldn't have been sure.

Another step closer Nathan drew, and they were practically touching. He took a long time before answering. "We'll just have to see." It was a murmur, barely audible, but Harold heard it. He heard the underlying tone of want, curiosity, even need. So when the taller man grabbed him by the wrists and put his lips on his, he didn't protest, simply let himself melt into the kiss.

Of course, such anomalies could never be repaired, only made worse.


	2. B is for Bear

**B is for Bear**

"Stop it! Stop it!"

The frantic yells of one Harold Finch could be heard from the bottom of marble steps that John was ascending quietly, sipping his lukewarm coffee on the sunny morning. The shouts alerted him, and the first thing that came to his mind was a threat. Quickly and with great urgency, he began to run up two stairs at a time, discarding his cup carelessly and not caring when the liquid poured out over the steps. He'd clean that up later. Right now, his friend was in trouble.

Slipping his gun out of the back of his trousers, he approached the door silently, bracing himself for what was inside. He debated whether or not he should kick the door down, but opted for simply opening it in case it alerted the intruder. Just as he brought his loafer down from the door, he heard a strange sound; laughter.

Laughter? For a minute, he was confused. Who would break in to make Finch laugh? The adrenaline coursing through him subsided, and he entered quietly, putting his gun back in its holster but staying alert. Splash, splash. John blinked. Was he hearing things?

He picked his way through discarded books and chewed dog toys until he got to the other side of the library, slipping through the book cases and reaching the source of the noise. The sight that met him was better than kicking an intruders ass. Much, much better.

For on the floor, sitting in a metal basin full of pink bubbles sat a very happy Bear, panting and wagging his soggy tail, and beside him sat Finch on the hard wooden floor, the only part of him not soaked being his shoes. He was laughing, his hands trying to hold Bear down as he washed the suds from his coat.

John had to chuckle. "Having fun, Harold?" Bear barked excitedly when he heard John's voice, whipping his head round and soaking Finch's waistcoat in the process. Usually on his best behaviour, the excitement of the day proved too much for Bear and he leaped out of the tub, shaking his wet fur (and soaking Finch once again) and slipping and sliding across the wooden floor. John bent down, expecting him to sit beside him, but instead the mutt leapt at him, knocking him to the floor in surprise and covering him in suds and water.

It was Finch's turn to laugh. "I am, Mr Reese. How about yourself?" They shared an understanding look, and John grinned, because even on the floor with Bear licking his face to no end, he felt a little safer. His mind flashed back to his days on the streets, their roughness and their unwelcome. He was blessed to have had someone like Finch ready to take him in, and giving him a dog to love and look after was the least he could do.

"Good old Bear."


	3. C is for Carter

**A/N: This drabble is a classic Carter/Reese, so nothing too risky this time. They're my favourite pairing and also a great dynamic couple. I think they could come a long way yet! For now, we're stuck with Fics. Enjoy!**

**C is for Carter**

John Reese was supposed to hate Joss Carter. She was a joke, with her cocky, I'm-a-cop-so-I-can-arrest-you-at-any-moment-not-to-mention-you're-wanted-by-many-members-of-law-enforcement attitude that she seemed to carry with her like a swagger and that damn lecturing she did constantly about how he was stupid to shoot that man, it was messy to beat up that criminal and why didn't he call her first? Doesn't he realize she's the one with the badge?...

He disliked her orthodox way of doing things, how she always went by the book. That was pointless if you asked him. The people they tracked didn't abide by the law, what makes anyone else so inclined to? And why was she so frustratingly uptight about keeping a good reputation all of a sudden? She was too screwed in to the system that she didn't notice or at least didn't want to notice corruption, that was her problem. He was supposed to be her enemy. He was supposed to hate her for ignoring all of that and doing things the long, unnecessary way. It was stupid. She was stupid. He hated her.

But in all honesty, he did not hate her. In fact, he liked how she called him Mr. Reese when she got mad at him for screwing up (although her definition of 'screwing up' differed greatly from his). He liked hearing her ramble on and on in his ear about how out of order he was. He liked the way she grinned at him when he made a sarcastic remark, how she cared enough to remind him she was the police officer and to put him in his place when he tried to tow the line with the law. He liked how she was straight, how she wasn't a dirty cop and she didn't change her ways, a constant in a world of variables. It gave him stability and security. _She_ gave him stability and security.

He liked how she blushed when he looked at her for too long. How she would wrap her arms around him on his bad days and hold his hand on his good days. How she would kiss his forehead, then his cheek, and then softly his lips. How she would support him through times of difficulty and yell at him through times of nondisciplinary action. How she got along just fine with Finch. How she accepted him.

John Reese was supposed to hate Joss Carter. But then again, John Reese never did ever really do what he was supposed to.


	4. D is for Donnelly

**A/N: This time I've decided to go for something a little different. Basically I saw this pairing somewhere and credit where it's due I found it weird but great. Reese/Donnelly certainly isn't my first choice, but don't knock it 'til you try it!**

**D is for Donnelly**

He was like the rest of them, Agent Nicholas Donnelly. John noticed from the very first time he laid his eyes on the charcoal grey suit and steely glare that seemed fixed on his face as if set in stone. He was a no-nonsense type guy and he did his work and did it well. He seemed straight, no dirty deals or corruption involved, but John couldn't really be that sure. He looked into it and, sure enough, no criminal record. The guy was your standard government lackey. A civil servant. An idiot.

But there was something about him, something that made him stand out. Be it his work ethic, the way he walked, the way he exuded confidence without inviting it off others, they made him seem like a Godly figure. John did not hold him in high regards in the sense that he thought he was somehow better, he was just...different. He seemed determined to find the Man in the Suit and he would not be shaken. He would find him sooner or later. John decided for the fun of things that it should be both.

Call it curiosity, call it a mischievous trait, but when John saw Agent Donnelly strolling down a quiet avenue on his nightly break, he had to do it. He had to follow him down the empty street, past vacant apartment buildings and closing shops. He had to tail him carefully, whistling every now and then to up his game a little. He had to enter into a shop or two a few times and persuade them to let him purchase something before closing, just to distance the space between them and give him the challenge of catching up to him again, undetected.

He didn't have to confront him, but he did. He held a paper under his arm and a juice box in his left hand, sipping the straw slowly and humming as the sun dipped behind the ocean and darkened the streets. When the street lamps came on he hurried forward, charging into the back of Donnelly and making them both drop their things. They fell in a mess at each others feet and one another muttered short apologies, making no significant eye contact. John picked up a set of keys with his things, and watched as Donnelly's panicked face surveyed the ground for them.

"Looking for these?" He held them in front of his own face, grinning smugly. At first Donnelly looked confused, but then John took the keys down so he could focus on his face. He smiled widely and even chuckled a little. "Or maybe it's me you're looking for."

Call it curiosity, call it a mischievous trait. But for some bizarre reason that even John failed to explain properly he had pushed himself against the younger man, letting his forehead fall against the confused Agent's and capturing his lips. It only lasted about ten seconds, but neither of them pulled away before that. It dawned on Donnelly who the man holding him was, but he could do nothing except stand there rigid for the first half a second, and then just by chance, by the driving force in his body, he happened to kiss back. Only for a few seconds, but he still kissed him. It was weird, it was awful, but it was nice. He was nice. He tasted like freshness, a crisp new shirt or washed cotton or minty toothpaste, or maybe all three. He felt good to be held by. He was unbelievable.

When John finally broke the kiss he silently dropped the keys into Donnelly's hand and squeezed it gently, then he disappeared around the corner, leaving his perpetrator leaning against the wall uncertainly, trying to catch his breath after the odd experience that he had found himself very much liking.

He wasn't really like the rest of them, John mused as he watched from the shadows as Agent Nicholas Donnelly teetered down the street, not even half of the easy strides he used only minutes before. He was definitely something else. He was definitely different. He was also definitely a hell of a good kisser.


End file.
